Werewolves of Chicago: Xavier

by Faleena Hopkins

  Leaving them I call back over my shoulder with as much calm as I can muster, “I’m not blushing. It’s just hot in here and I was…” I trail off and let her question die a quick death. Grabbing my coat, I check myself out one last time. Am I blushing? Hell yes I fucking am.

  Xavier

  While the human children hang from monkey bars, their mother and I stand and watch. I don’t want to admit it but they are cute little creatures, no matter how inferior they are to wolves. I don’t want kids – or pups – but I can see the appeal. The enthusiasm and innocence they attack everything with reminds me of when I ran through the forests in my youth, when our pack vacationed in places where we didn’t have to hide what we were, and we could be ourselves. We didn’t go to a fucking theme park. We didn’t need one. The forest was our playground and Mother Nature had more than enough to show us. So many secret places to uncover.

  The openness of unabashed joy that kids feel, and exploration of the world. I miss that.

  They’re good kids — Michael and Sofia Foster. Good human kids.

  Their mother on the other hand hasn’t spoken to me in an hour. She’s right next to me but neither of us are saying a word. I can play this game. If she wants to give me the silent treatment, fine by me. I’m not a big talker anyway. And I don’t need to know what I did wrong. I know.

  It took a fuck-load of sidestepping and decoy excuses to throw my packmates off track. The way I’m personally rationalizing this is Kruglov’s not the type to attack on a Saturday in broad daylight. Too many people in the area where we live. Too many witnesses. Plus we took out a good number of his decoys. He needs more numbers.

  At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

  Maybe I just needed a fucking break from the drama.

  Stealing a glance to my right, I catch a glimpse of Emily’s profile. She’s got a nice nose, not too squished. Her lips catch my attention, as they always do, but she looks over with an annoyed look. She’s not going to drop my being almost an hour late any time soon. As I face forward again and go to cross my arms, the backs of our hands touch and we both stop breathing for a second as electricity passes between us. I still can’t hear her heart, but her hitching breath is audible to even a human’s ears. My cock twitches in my jeans, and I crack my neck.

  “STOP IT!”

  Both Emily and I come to attention at Sofia’s cry. The mood changes in a fraction of a second. Rushing forward we see a little boy larger than her with a fistful of her hair. He’s pulling it.

  That’s about to stop.

  But Michael does what a brother should and beats me to it. He shoves the taller boy to the ground. “DON’T TOUCH MY SISTER!”

  Emily starts running. “Michael, don’t push him!” Her son’s face turns from protective aggression to fear of being in trouble.

  The boy’s father approaches. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” Emily smiles, trying to diffuse the tension.

  That's not my style.

  “Is this your son?” I demand. The guy nods. Emily’s head whips to me, horrified.

  Starting to get mad, he asks her, “Your boy just push Tony?”

  Her mouth opens slightly to answer, but I jump in. I’m in the guy’s face. He’s a foot shorter than me but all Italian machismo just the same. Which I can appreciate. But he won’t win this fight. Not where these kids are concerned. “Michael was protecting his sister because Tony was hurting her.”

  “Still, Michael shouldn’t have pushed him,” Emily quickly says with apologetic caution.

  “The fuck he shouldn’t!” I growl. “It’s his mission to protect her. That’s what he’s here to do.”

  Emily stares at me, shocked. Tony’s dad does the usual human bullshit.

  “Tony wouldn’t hurt a girl! My kid—”

  “—Your kid,” I interrupt. “...was yanking on her hair and when she yelled for him to stop, he didn’t. Where does that lead to later!”

  “Okay now,” he shouts in my face. “That’s taking it too far.”

  I get really still and say in low, “Is it?”

  We glare at each other. The kids are watching us. Emily grabs my arm to pull me away, which is probably a good thing because I am about to kick the living shit out of this guy. And with the whole playground watching. I’m holding his look. He’s holding his own, but he’s hoping it won’t come to fists. I see fear in his eyes and smell it coming off his pores. He has to hide it from his boy.

  Parenting is motherfucking hard.

  Emily’s still yanking on my arm. I jab a finger at Tony and say, “Tony, when a girl says no or stop, you LISTEN.” The boy stares at me. I’m not overreacting. The little asshole has it in his eyes, what he could become. All bad guys were kids once upon a time.

  His father grumbles, “Let me take care of my son.”

  “Good luck with that.” To Emily’s children I say, “C’mon.”

  Michael has been staring at me like I’m not from this world. In a way, I’m not, and in a way I’m more from it than these civilized human beings are. Things are a lot more primal than everyone thinks. Their instincts are dulled. Mine are not.

  As we head away, Sofia runs up and grabs my hand. This takes me by surprise. I glance down to see her staring at me without a smile. Just looking. Like she sees me, and appreciates me standing up for her very much. I give her a nod.

  When we’re almost back to my Jeep, Emily begins, “You shouldn’t have…”

  I’m waiting for her to chew me out, but she doesn’t finish. I steal a glance at her. She’s torn. Michael’s holding her hand. The four of us are walking in a line like we’re a family, but I can’t see this. I’m still forcing my wolf to heel. He really wanted to teach that boy to never hurt a girl again, and to listen when she says no.

  I’m real curious so I ask Emily, under my breath. “What were you going to say.” My questions almost always sound like statements. I don’t like not knowing answers.

  She starts to speak, but her jaw clamps shut again. She motions to my Jeep. As soon as the kids are belted inside, she beckons me to talk to her on the sidewalk, out of earshot of them. I don’t know if she’s still pissed about the lateness or if this is just about the playground, but fire is in her eyes. She’s fucking pissed.

  “You don’t have any right to do what you just did.” Speechless, I glare at her. “Michael thinks it’s okay to fight now!”

  “Sometimes it is.”

  “No, it isn’t! You don’t know.” She struggles like she wants to explain about how her husband was abusive. She has no idea I know. So I keep my mouth shut and listen to her say instead, simply and without bringing up the cause, “Michael has been showing signs of violence.”

  Without pause I tell her, “And sometimes that’s okay.” Her eyes go wide, but I put my hand up and stop her before she gets the wrong idea. “I’m not saying he should beat people up, or become an abusive prick.” Her eyes flicker. “I’m just saying that he needs to know it’s okay to defend his sister against abuse.” I pause and lick my lips, struggling against my own anger. “He needs to defend her. It’s a harsh and violent world, Mrs. Foster. He needs to be there when she needs him and not be afraid to throw someone to the ground and say aloud with all of his voice that what’s happening is not right.” Fighting my own angry emotions, I spin around and head for the passenger side of the car. She comes over and silently allows me to help her up. Her eyes meet mine right before I close the door.

  When I get behind the wheel, I turn around and ask the kids, “You guys hungry?”

  They don’t go wild this time. They just nod, listening and watching, tuned in to the tension she and I are feeling. Little sponges these two, soaking up our every move. They’re very aware of their mother and so I give them a small smile to set their minds at ease…with a lie. “We’re not fighting.”

  “You’re not?” Michael asks. He looks suspicious and innocent at the same time. Six years old. So far to go.

  Emily lean
s over and smiles at them. “No, honey. We’re not fighting at all. I’m just upset by what happened to Sofia.” I think she’s covering for our tension but then she says, “You did good, Michael.”

  His eyes go really wide. Mine, too.

  “You did,” Emily assures him, reaching back to touch his knee. “There is a time and a place for pushing someone down. That was the right time.” She faces front again and fastens her own seatbelt. Under her breath, she whispers, “Please don’t call me Mrs. Foster again.”

  I nod and turn on the ignition.

  Emily

  After pizza and ice cream, my kids are crashing fast. They need a nap from all the excitement. Waking up this morning was not like a usual Saturday. It was like Christmas knowing they were going to do something new, and with their “Wolfman.” I wish they wouldn’t call him that. He flinches a little every time they say it. Like now.

  “BYE WOLFMAN!!!” they holler and wave as they walk inside our apartment.

  He waves back, but his gesture is much more subdued than theirs, of course. He’s so controlled, this man. He’s the master of his own body, every move deliberate. I want him to be the master of mine. It’s exhilarating to be around him because even though he’s new and unfamiliar to me, I feel safe in his company, which is a very unusual thing for me when it comes to men. Xavier is in charge of every moment, even when he looks to me for what I want to do. Like now.

  His eyes are boring into mine, silently asking if he should stay a little longer. I’m leaning against the doorframe and he’s in the hall. The stairs leading to outside are right behind him. I could just ask him to go. He’s waiting to see if I will. I don’t want to. I want him to stay here with me. With us. Please stay. The depth in his eyes, my soul could swim there for a trillion more hours and never be tired, never want to leave.

  “You have to go,” I whisper thickly.

  He comes closer. “You are something else, Emily.” The slow rasp with which he said my name sends goosebumps down my body.

  “I’m nothing special,” I whisper as he leans down. Our lips almost touch.

  “The way you smell right now. So good.” Like he’s trying to control himself, he cracks his neck, brushing his lips against mine in the process. My heart is slamming in my chest as I lift up my chin for a real kiss. He backs off and stares down the hall.

  “You’re right.”

  Confused and aching, I ask, “About?”

  “That I have to go.” He turns to leave and my breath hitches with sadness. I don’t know if he heard me or what, but suddenly he whips around, pulls me out into the hallway, lifts me up off the ground and kisses me deeply. It is urgent. It is amazing. And it is over. Breathless I watch him head for the stairs so quickly it seems inhuman. But I’m sure that’s just my imagination. With my lips still tingling and my body suddenly engulfed in flames, everything is surreal. My pussy is drenched. I need that man inside me. I need him.

  “Xavier!” I am surprised to hear my voice crack like I’m desperate. Just like on the street. God, Emily, stop. Don’t throw away your dignity just because he’s the sexiest man you’ve ever known.

  Flushing hotly, I cover my face in embarrassment. Downstairs, the front door of our apartment building opens and shuts. I whisper, “He’s gone.” But then I hear the stairs creaking and footsteps rising up. With a frown carved into his forehead, Xavier reappears, taking quick strides toward me until we are face to face.

  “Fuck,” he grates, touching my face. “Invite me in.”

  I press my cheek into his warm, open palm and close my eyes. “Come in.” From the look in his eyes he knows I mean that in more ways than one. Covering his hand with my own, I look up at him, and lead him inside. “Wait here.”

  He nods and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, jaw ticking with tension. My eyes flicker to his crotch and there’s that bulge again. We exchange a look that says we will be fucking soon. My heart twists in my chest, I’m so nervous.

  I slip into my children’s bedroom and discover what I suspected. They were so exhausted they’re already passed out — clothes and shoes still on. Slipping their sneakers gently off, and cover them with blankets. Their mouths are open, faces lax and beautiful. Sleeping children always look like angels.

  Backing out, I turn and see Xavier watching from the door. He looks sad and even a little confused, though I don’t know why. Oh no, is he worrying about getting mixed up with a single mom? I’m sure he’s not the type to get emotionally involved with anyone, and I’m probably too complicated for him.

  I pause and wait for him to bail on me. If it’s going to happen it may as well be now.

  He blinks once like he’s clearing confusing thoughts from his mind, stepping aside so I can close the door. As I do, his hand flattens on my lower back, and he holds there. I freeze, loving the warmth of his touch, but worried he’s about to let me down easy.

  “You want to go?” I whisper.

  Staring at my lips, he shakes his head. “I can’t. I tried.”

  Is he telling me he wants me that badly he can’t resist the temptation? I feel exactly the same way, only for me it’s not that hard of a choice. Even if I never see him again, I have to feel his body on mine, in mine. I need this man more than I should.

  He closes the door to my bedroom then turns the little button and locks us in. I’ve got my back to the bed. The lights are off, but since it’s daylight there’s a warm glow through the closed blinds. Xavier and I are watching each other and as he walks to me, I take an involuntary, nervous step backward. He stops and frowns. “Do you want this?”

  My throat is tight, but I nod. He comes closer and runs the rough pad of his thumb down my forehead, smoothing out my frown. That thumb presses its way down my cheek, my jaw, my neck and my collarbone, and he hesitates as it touches my scar. He leans down and kisses it. Emotion swirls up at the kindness in his touch. I hadn’t expected that at all. “You smell so good, Emily.”

  His hands wrap around my waist and hold there for a moment, gripping me. He pulls up my shirt and stares at my chest, reaching back to unsnap my bra so he can get a better look. To see him drinking me in like this is such a turn-on. He silently groans. Every word we say, every moan we make from here on out, is muted so we don’t wake my children.

  He picks me up off the ground and bends my body backwards to kiss and suck on my nipples and the soft naked flesh around them for a long, slow time. I feel light in his strong arms, though I’m really not. “We’re going to do this, we’re going to fuck, but just this one time,” he groans into my skin.

  I hate hearing that, but I understand. I’m a package of three, and that’s a lot to commit to for anyone. My whispered, “Okay,” becomes an oh-so-quiet moan as he slides one of his hands over the crotch of my jeans. He cups and massages me as he continues licking my tight little cherries.

  “For this one time, I want you to give yourself completely to me.” He looks for my answer. “Can you do that? Can you give me everything you have for this one afternoon?”

  I nod, eyes hooded as his hand continues to slowly massage my pussy through my jeans.

  “Say it,” he rasps.

  “I’ll give you all of me. Willingly. I’m yours.” I lick my lips. “For this one time. Just this once.”

  “Mine,” he murmurs before he runs his tongue up my body as he sets me down. Nuzzling my neck, he breathes into my ear, “You’re mine, Emily. No one else’s.”

  “Yours.” He kisses me hard, teasing my tongue when he finds it eager and willing. He’s grabbing my ass with both hands. He is bent over me and I’m craned backward under the insistent pressure of his kisses as they grow in passion. The muscles on his back are taut and undulate with his every move. I’m holding onto them in pure adoration. He is fantastic in every way.

  “Tell me what you want me to do, Emily.”

  He yanks his shirt off from over the back of his head and tosses in aside. My eyes go wide. I can’t help it. His chest is perfect! Reachi
ng out, I trace the muscles on it and lean down to suck on his nipples as he holds my head. He reaches around the back of my crotch and massages me from that sexy angle while I wrap one leg around him and kiss every inch of his chiseled chest. When I look up at him and say, “I want you to fuck me so hard,” he grimaces in that way men do when they’re turned-on. With almost a sneer, he gets a fistful of my hair and pulls me up to kiss him hard on the mouth. Crushed together, we move on each other before he pulls away, staring at me with pure lust. Like I’m some other woman who’s a lot braver than me, I whisper, “Fuck me, Xavier. Make me yours.”

  He shakes his head like it’s killing him how much he wants to. “You have no idea what you’re asking. I will make all other men look like pussies to you.”

  “And what’s wrong with pussy?” I smile.

  He grins at me. “Nothing wrong with the kind you’re talking about. Like this one right here.” He shoves one hand inside my jeans and panties to finger my swollen folds. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet for me, Emily. Just like in the Jeep. I wanted to fuck you there so bad that day.”

  I’m about to say I would have loved that, but he starts flicking my clit and robs me of speech as his mouth claims mine. In a flash, he pushes me onto the bed with a bounce.

  Coming at me, he pulls off my jeans and panties together, and stares at my naked body like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. I’ve never had someone look at me like this. I’m nervous and self-conscious, but that all goes away as he unzips his own jeans and steps out of them. His cock is fucking huge and it’s pointing right at me. My body reacts with electric shocks of need for it. I want to know what that cock feels like. I can’t fucking wait.

  Palming himself, he smiles at my expression. “I’ll go slow.”

  “Please don’t,” I whisper.

  He lowers his chin, staring at me from under his thick eyebrows. “Open your legs, baby.” I let my legs spread wide. He motions with both hands that he wants them wider. I do as he says, my pussy throbbing now. He’s staring at it like he wants to lick it until tomorrow morning. His tongue is on the tip of his teeth as he shakes his head. “I’ve never seen anything more gorgeous.”